


Stiles' Small Rebellion

by Jonjo



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Counselling, Depression, Escape, Future Fic, Gen, Happy Ending, Recovery, Summer Vacation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-09
Updated: 2015-05-09
Packaged: 2018-03-29 18:32:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,798
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3906415
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jonjo/pseuds/Jonjo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stiles struggles to recover after the nemeton, the nogitsune, Mexico etc</p>
            </blockquote>





	Stiles' Small Rebellion

 

 

Stiles had a plan.

 

It’d been hard the past months. After the nemeton, the nogitsune, after Mexico… everything felt too much and nowhere near enough. He was lost. And he was angry.

 

But this was Stiles, so he’d done what he did best and researched. He hadn’t been sure what to look for at first. He knew he needed someone to talk to but there didn’t seem to be anyone who fit the bill. He’d thought about going to Morrell but she was too creepy and never gave him a straight answer, so he’d decided to pass on that. His dad had mentioned seeing a therapist but the whole supernatural debacle meant he’d have to watch what he said, which made it seem pointless, not to mention expensive.

 

Eventually he’d come across an online counselling service, where he could be anonymous. It wasn’t perfect, he knew any mention of werewolves would have him labelled as delusional but that didn’t matter if they didn’t know who or where he was. Even better he could talk to different people, (listeners they called them), each time, if he wanted. More than all that it was free; the Stilinski’s had enough money troubles as it was.

 

He’d rung a listener almost immediately. He’d been desperate just to talk, to vent. But everyone around him was going through there own shit, he couldn’t… wouldn’t unload on them.

 

Jill, that was her name, had let him ramble, made listening noises so he knew she was still there and just let him rant. After nearly half an hour he’d stopped abruptly and taken a deep breath. She’d asked him how he felt, just as he was about to apologise for going on so long, as if she’d known and hadn’t wanted him to feel sorry for just trying to clear his mind. She’d suggested he try to write a list, to organise his thoughts a bit and maybe discover what was upsetting him the most. Stiles had scoffed a bit at that but had said he’d try and ended the call.

 

He’d moved to his bed and lay back just staring up at the ceiling, silently acknowledging he did feel a bit better before he dozed off.

 

Half way through chemistry the next day he’d found he’d started making the list. Harris’s voice had broken him out of his reverie and he’d looked down to see three names on a small piece of paper.

 

‘DAD’ was written in capitals and underlined. Underneath that he'd written ‘Scott’ in large letters and below that ‘Alison’ in small letters.

 

He’d still been snoozing, the day before, when his dad had dropped by the house to tell him he was going back in for another shift and wouldn’t be around for Sunday night dinner. He’d shouted his name to wake Stiles, seemingly annoyed that Stiles was in bed. Telling him the house was a mess and it’d be nice if Stiles did something for once. After he’d slammed the front door on his way back to his cruiser, the sheriff had texted Stiles to say _if_ he was doing laundry his sheets could do with changing.

 

Stiles couldn’t really believe his ears. He’d cleaned the living room the day before and had tidied the kitchen that morning after he’d cleared away breakfast and prepared everything for that evening’s meal. He always cooked for them, at least five times a week and did breakfast if his dad was about at the weekends.

 

He’d been so pissed but he’d pulled himself out of bed. He’d stripped it, thinking he may as well wash his own bedding if he had to do his dad’s anyway and dragged the whole lot down to the washing machine. He’d slumped down to the floor as the drum began to move and texted Scott to see if he'd wanted to come over and help him eat the dinner that his dad would be missing. When Scott had replied that he was with Kira and would be eating at hers, Stiles had just curled up on the floor. He couldn’t believe how hopeful he’d felt earlier in the day when he’d discovered the counselling service but all he felt like doing now was crying.

 

The week had continued much as it had started. He’d gone to school, cooked and done his homework and tried to sleep. He didn’t play video games much anymore, not finding any enthusiasm for it without Scott being there and Scott was hardly ever there. He didn’t really blame him for wanting to be with Kira, he just missed them spending time together. They hadn’t really spent much time in each others company for ages. First with Allison and then Isaac taking up Scott’s time and then the nogitsune. He tried to believe that Scott didn't think of him differently these days but it was hard when he counted himself responsible for the mess that had resulted in Allison's death. And then there was the pack, Liam and Scott’s true alpha status. Stiles felt that he’d never had time with Scott to come to terms with how all the changes had affected their friendship and he wasn’t certain they ever would. Mostly he just felt isolated.

 

The Malia thing had helped for a while until her aggression and his depression had pretty much killed it. He wasn’t even sure he missed her, she seemed to sap his energy and his dad’s affection for her just irritated him. He felt like such a loser.

 

By the Friday afternoon he’d decided that he’d ring the helpline again and see if it helped. There was a pack meeting he had to go to later and he knew he couldn’t face it feeling as bad as he did. People would ask questions and he didn’t even have coherent answers for himself never mind anyone else.

 

The first listener he’d spoken to, a man this time, had been keen for him to work out an action plan. Stiles had been reluctant but he’d gone along with it for a while, he’d just wanted something to help. The guy had been pretty sure he should talk to his dad and that he should plan something for the coming summer break; find something to look forward to. Stiles had only spent about five minutes talking to him, he really hadn’t wanted a ‘to do’ list, he’d just wanted to talk. He’d called someone else straight away after and this second guy had seemed to get him and let him ramble on for a while, interrupting him intermittently to say helpful, encouraging things.

 

It had done the trick. Stiles had made it through the pack meeting without any problem even if he’d left fairly soon after all the compulsory stuff had been done and hadn’t stayed to chat. He’d given Derek a lift home as he’d seemed to need to get out of there as quickly as Stiles. They hadn’t talked much on the way to the loft but when Stiles had stopped the jeep just outside his block, Derek had asked him to come over the next day to try out some new self-defense moves he’d discovered and get some lunch.

 

His dad had been home when he got back but Stiles hadn’t felt like talking so he’d said he had an essay to write and disappeared up to his room. He didn’t have an essay to do but there had been some other stuff and some prep for the following week that he’d worked through before taking to his bed early. He’d tried a few of his favorite porn sites for something to occupy his mind but nothing seemed to be working. He was pretty sure his libido had up and left with Malia, nothing much seemed to spark an interest. And short of his morning shower activities he’d practically given up on ‘Stiles time’ altogether.

 

The suggestion that he should plan something to look forward to, kept cropping up in his mind but he had no idea where to start on that so he’d decided to ask if Derek had any ideas the next day. Eventually he’d fallen asleep, probably he thought, out of boredom.

 

Derek and Stiles had had fun the next morning, Stiles had to admit. It’d been good messing around in the loft as they’d gone through the fighting moves a few times and assessed if they really were useful or could be adapted to better suit their circumstances. After an hour or so they’d left the loft to head up to the preserve for a run. The physical exertion felt good to Stiles and he’d relaxed as they made their way through the trees. Stiles had been telling Derek about the counselling service and the suggestion that he should make future plans and as they’d followed one of the preserve’s tracks Derek had asked if Stiles liked trees. Stiles had thought it was an odd question, it had sounded more like a statement but he’d nodded anyway. Then Derek had started telling him about the Forest Service and how they ran schemes for young people to get them out into the woods. Stiles hadn't been sure he liked the sound of it at first, but Derek had gone on to explain the benefits. That it would get him out of Beacon Hills, earn him some money, save him from a summer of keeping house for his dad and filing at the Sheriff’s department _and_ he’d get to meet new people who knew nothing about the shit they’d been through. The idea had begun to grow on him.

  


It was nearly a month later when the letter arrived saying he’d been accepted onto a scheme in Oregon. It’d be six weeks, almost the whole summer away and he couldn’t help but feel excited.

 

He’d started researching immediately he’d got back from Derek’s that first Saturday and he’d sent off three or four applications to parks departments in neighbouring states. When he told Derek, they’d decided to make Saturdays a regular thing: fight training in the loft, then a run and lunch. It had upped his fitness levels, which hadn’t properly recovered after being severely damaged by the nogitsune and it made him feel more confident about a summer of physical work.

 

The only down side to the letter was that as a minor he needed his dad’s signature on the acceptance slip, which meant explaining and getting his dad’s approval of his plans. He’d decided to bite the bullet and had asked his dad that night when he’d sat down to dinner. The sheriff had been very reluctant, in fact he’d said no, he couldn’t see why Stiles would want to go away. They’d started shouting and Stiles had stormed off upstairs, utterly miserable, to the sound of his dad yelling that they couldn’t afford to send him on vacation. He hadn’t let Stiles explain anything.

 

Stiles had climbed into bed, his food left uneaten and texted Derek to tell him it was a no-go before crying himself to sleep. He’d been woken by a nightmare in the middle of the night and lay awake for an age thinking he’d never get out of the hellhole that was Beacon Hills. After a while though, he’d got up and printed off some information about the National Parks Service and the scheme he’d been accepted onto. He’d clipped the sheets together with the letter from Oregon and the acceptance slip that needed signing and slipped downstairs quietly to leave them in front of the coffee machine in the kitchen. He hoped if his dad had a chance to read the information he’d come around to the idea.

 

A few days later his dad had come home early from his shift and had handed Stiles an envelope. At Stiles enquiring look, he’d told him that he’d been talking to Derek and some of his deputies about the scheme and they’d convinced him it’d be good for his son. Stiles had opened the envelope, seen the signature and hugged his dad tight.

  


So, school had ended, Stiles was packed up and Derek and the sheriff were out front waiting to wave him off.

 

Stiles was in a good mood, but it could have been better.

 

He’d told Scott about the plan a few weeks before and they’d argued. It had shocked Stiles, he’d thought Scott would have been all for it. Some nasty stuff had been said about abandoning the pack and selfishness which had caused Stiles to remind Scott how much he’d done for the pack and Scott in particular, which had left them both angry and upset. Scott hadn’t come around to the idea and hadn’t turned up to say goodbye even though Stiles had texted him, repeatedly.

 

Seeing the clouds begin to appear on Stiles face, Derek clapped him on the back a few times and told him he’d take care of Scott, in such a way as to imply Scott was in for a talking to. Stiles smiled and thanked Derek, hugged his dad and jumped in the jeep. He had a long way to go and he wanted to get there in daylight.

  


Stiles was exhausted, it was the end of his first week of work and he felt like he could sleep forever. With dinner eaten and cleared away, his crew were free for the weekend. They’d turned out to be a good bunch and Stiles had enjoyed the work but down time sounded like heaven.

 

The bunkhouse they were staying in for the weekend had wifi so Stiles retrieved his phone from his locker.  They’d been away the whole week, carrying all their gear and camping out, and there’d been no point taking his phone with him. He found he had a voicemail from his dad and email’s from Derek, Lydia and Kira and Scott…

He listened to his dad’s message first, it didn’t say much but it was nice and nothing major had happened. A sense of relief swept through him, he hadn’t realised he’d been worrying so much and it was good to know they were all safe. He read short notes from Kira and Lydia that made him smile, decided to leave Scott’s til the next day to read and settled comfily into his bed to read Derek’s.

 

It was long and made Stiles wonder when exactly they’d become such good friends. He reassured Stiles that he’d been keeping an eye on the sheriff _and_ his diet and had roped Deputy Parrish in to help him out with that. He gave updates on the pack especially Liam’s training and then a long paragraph about Scott. Stiles didn’t really want to read it but he knew he had to, it was just that he was still hurt by Scott’s reaction and would rather ignore all thought of it. Derek had, as promised, been to see Scott, in fact he’d sat down with Melissa(her idea) and Scott and they’d laid out some home truths for him. Stiles almost felt sorry for Scott, it sounded like it’d been rough but it had ended amicably with Scott admitting he missed Stiles and was somewhat frightened by the prospect of protecting the pack without Stiles help. Derek had promised Scott that he’d speak to the pack individually to remind them Scott needed their support and that he’d get Stiles to contact him. Stiles huffed after reading that, initially thinking it was none of Derek’s business whether he contacted Scott or not, but it was just bluff and he knew bridges needed to be rebuilt between them. After all him and Scott were bros.

 

The end of Derek’s letter included a small picture of a cabin and the line:

See you June 26

 

Stiles mind started churning. Was Derek coming to see him?  Derek was coming to see him…  Why was Derek coming to see him? What did it mean? Did he like him? Of course he liked him, but did he like-like him? DEREK was coming to see him… Derek was coming to see HIM… omg…he’d booked a cabin… Had he booked a cabin? Shit, he’d booked a cabin… for them?

  
The thoughts kept up for a good long while until Stiles made an effort to stop them. He was so tired. He took a deep breath, let it out slowly and lay back in bed, smiling. His small rebellion had worked, he’d gotten out of Beacon Hills for a while. It remained to be seen if his absence would help his dad realise how much he did around the house, but the ‘Scott’ thing showed promise and even his libido was showing signs of recovery.  Derek Hale was coming to see him and he couldn’t have been happier about the fact.

 

 

 


End file.
